


I Once Was Lost, But Now...

by MB234



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Season/Series 08, Sex, Sick Character, Sick Sam Winchester, Trials
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:14:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9613370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MB234/pseuds/MB234
Summary: It fucking killed you, seeing Sam like this.There were those bags, heavy and dark, that lay permanently banked under his tired eyes; the glittering green-blue orbs that had once been so bright and lively now bloodshot, weary. There was that weighted tilt to his broad, strong shoulders, a fatigue that sat stoutly on his oversized form, that pressed his back to hunch and forced his steps to falter.But worst of all were those bloody rags that he tried to hide, with their bright splashes of crimson that flashed like the most fervent of warning signals against the too-white cotton tissue he clutched in shaky fingers or cupped in the palm of his huge, calloused hands, the incriminating liquid glinting mockingly for just a moment before he’d anxiously hide the damning evidence from view, throwing it hurriedly into a nearby trashcan or wiping it hastily onto worn-out denim.And still you knew, you always knew, from the worried crease that would appear on his forehead as he realized again, for the thousandth time that something was seriously wrong...Sam is hurting bad from the trials, growing distant. Can Sam and the reader reconnect? Can the reader be what Sam needs?





	

It fucking killed you, seeing Sam like this.

 

There were those bags, heavy and dark, that lay permanently banked under his tired eyes; the glittering green-blue orbs that had once been so bright and lively now bloodshot, weary. There was that weighted tilt to his broad, strong shoulders, a fatigue that sat stoutly on his oversized form, that pressed his back to hunch and forced his steps to falter. But worst of all were those bloody rags that he tried to hide, with their bright splashes of crimson that flashed like the most fervent of warning signals against the too-white cotton tissue he clutched in shaky fingers or cupped in the palm of his huge, calloused hands, the incriminating liquid glinting mockingly for just a moment before he’d anxiously hide the damning evidence from view, throwing it hurriedly into a nearby trashcan or wiping it hastily onto worn-out denim. And still you knew, you _always_ knew, from the worried crease that would appear on his forehead as he realized again, for the thousandth time that something was seriously wrong, from the panicked darting of his eyes as his heart inevitably seized in his chest and his thick, strong throat worked in frightened movements.

 

And when you asked if he was okay you grew to expect the lie that would tumble inevitably from his once jovial lips, the slightly delayed, hastily intoned _Yeah babe, I’m fine_ that had your chest doing strange, twisting things and heating uncomfortably against your skin. It wasn’t really the lie that bothered you, the truth was just ugly enough to justify the deceit, besides it wasn’t anything you both didn’t already know, but it was the timbre of his voice, the falsified exuberance that killed you the most. Sam was trying to be strong for you and for Dean, just like he always did, but it was so damn obvious that he was hurting. The pain was starting to spill into his eyes, showing in the way he’d glance at you when he thought you weren’t looking, like he was a death row inmate seeing his last meal, like he was a man with limited time. But, you supposed, in a cruelly cosmic way, he _was._

 

You sighed heavily as you shifted in the bed you shared with Sam, the bed that was currently occupied by just one restless body instead of two, unable to stop the trespassing thoughts racing rampantly through your head. The covers were cold without Sam, and as you huffed onto your back you glanced at the clock on the nightstand, the apathetic, glaring numbers confirming your suspicions that it was so late it was just barely tomorrow. As you reached out a hand to stroke the empty expanse of cotton at your side you realized you’d become so accustomed to falling asleep pressed against your huge, hulking space heater of a boyfriend that it was hopeless trying to slip into sleep without him. You weren’t surprised by his absence tonight; lately Sam had taken to spending hours, most often those small ones that lasted late into the night, hunched over the thick, mahogany tables that sat in the Bunker’s library, his head propped up by one brawny forearm as he flipped through the old, dry pages of whatever volume he thought might yield precious information on the trials, Abaddon or anything that might be remotely useful. You were just about to get up and see what research he was engrossed in, and check if he hadn’t fallen asleep at the table again, when the man himself stumbled in, running a large hand through his long hair and sighing heavily as he closed the door softly behind him.

 

He began to absently undress as he padded on sock feet into the room, his distraction evident in the furrow of his brow and the direction of his gaze steadfastly at the floor. The soft _clink_ of his belt as he slid it off his narrow hips caused a dull, pulsing heat to bloom low in your belly, spearing straight down your arching spine, settling somewhere near your spread thighs. You couldn’t help but watch through heavily lidded eyes as he slipped off his jeans and unbuttoned his flannel, his motions deliberately careful as he tried to stay quiet, shirking the gargantuan vestments with a shrug of his wide shoulders and a flick of his nimble wrist, letting them fall to the floor with a series of soft _whomps_. When he began to peel back the covers on his side and climb in, maneuvering his huge body with a weary but impressive grace, he finally noticed that you were awake and watching him with a gentle, wanting smile.

 

“Hey, sorry to wake you up babe.” Sam's voice was a low, deep whisper that sent a sudden wave of searing molten heat sizzling through your body. A sizable pang of affection rang somewhere deep in your chest when he reached for you, the motion so automatic it seemed second nature.

 

“S’okay,” You whispered back, your voice scratchy from the lethargic haze you’d been lingering in, as you shifted towards him and his blazing warmth, “I was about to go check on you anyway. You alright?” As soon as the question fell from your lips you knew the answer you’d receive, and sure enough…

 

“Yeah babe, I’m fine.” He sounded so sure, so absolute that he nearly fooled you, but you caught the weary tilt to his shoulders and the blue-black bags that sat heavy under his eyes as he moved behind you, pressing his broad chest into the slim expanse of your back. You were pretty damn positive that he sure as shit _wasn’t_ fine, but you knew from past experience that pushing him to talk wouldn’t work; he wouldn’t budge an inch. Words often fell short when trying to describe the feelings and emotions he was currently experiencing, so you tended to settle for messages of the more tangible kind. Namely, the firm, fervent grind of your ass into the cradle of his slim hips, the kind of heated press that wrought a series of low, needy moans from his chapped lips that were hovering above your pounding pulse.

 

“You sure?” You questioned earnestly as his mouth found that place behind your ear, the place that he knew would have your thoughts racing to other, more naughty destinations on your over heated body. You realized suddenly that you were speaking in soft, hushed tones, as if raising your voice would shatter the fragile magic that had settled over you. It was indeed some kind of magic, what with the way his warm, nimble tongue snaked it’s way over the shell of your ear and down the pounding pulse of your neck, making your back arch against him, forcing the swell of your backside to press harder against him, to grind more fervently against his hips.

 

“Babe,” He grated as his huge, calloused hands swept down your body, those long, slim fingers tracing the cut of your waist and the swell of your hips, sending molten fire pounding through your veins, making you whine low in the back of your throat and arch against him, “I’m _fine._ ” He rasped at  your ear, that last syllable overly emphasized by the fevered slip of those lithe digits beneath the lace of your panties, which, with a few expert maneuvers, he had sliding down your legs, the soft fabric snagging on the curve of a slim ankle. Sam didn’t stop to ensure their completion down the long lines of your limbs, as eager as he was to have his hands back on you.  Beneath the faded cotton of the too-big t shirt that graced your form, one plucked shamelessly from his drawers, Sam's hands easily found your breasts, that frayed hemline riding up his brawny forearms, his nimble fingers rolling your hard nipples in that perfect way that drove you wild.

 

“Sam!” You gasped when he bit fervently at the taught cord of your neck, teeth dull but grinding as they sunk into your exposed flesh. You knew that’d leave one hell of a hickey, but at the present moment you couldn’t find too many reasons to care.

 

“Need you…” Sam groaned fiercely against the curve of your neck as he rutted the throbbing length of his erection against the swell of your ass, one immense hand leaving your breast to travel down the panes of your quivering stomach to sweep between your hip bones, his slim fingers cupping your sex, no preamble or pace to his actions, just a throbbing, tense _want_ that hastened the expert slide of his fingers through the bare lips of your cunt _._

 

"I'm here," You sighed softly in response, arching wantonly in his arms. There was an air of naked, primal _need_ in his heated touches, in his mouth that was warm and wet at your neck, in the hard, almost painful press of his fingers into the sensitive skin of your breast.

 

As Sam wrapped that large, calloused hand around the curve of your thigh, steely fingers gripping right behind your knee, and hitched your leg fixedly upon the firm, flexed muscle of his hip, not even bothering to fully remove his boxer briefs before lining up his near intolerable length with your sex, you realized that even though Sam wasn’t okay, he needed this, needed _you_ right now. You had been trying so hard to be there for him, to support him in every way you could think of, but maybe all that he needed was the soft, sharp gasps of your breath in response to his rough touches, the throbbing warmth of your pliant body and the silky sweetness between your thighs.

 

Your suspicions were confirmed when Sam began to edge his sizeable girth into your exposed sex, the slick slide slow and blunt since he’d skipped his usual foreplay to prepare you for his admittedly gargantuan size. His breaths were huffing, sharp and jagged, against your neck, curling hotly around your ear and sliding down your neck, the deep, sexy rush of his grunted exhalations and the sure, steady grip of his hands that spanned your body helping somewhat to ease the thick slide of him inside of you. Once he bottomed out, the blunt head of his cock wedged deep within you, your pussy so full you could fucking _feel_ him throbbing as his cock pulsed in tandem with his racing heartbeat, only then did he release his steely grip on your breast and thrum those adept fingers down your shaking body straight to your clit, swirling the bud of nerves in tight, precise circles.

 

You cried his name, trying to writhe in his arms, and failing utterly as you were captured and spread so fully for him. Wetness was everywhere; pooling between your thighs, slipping from your sex, sliding down between your breasts, pressing against your back and joining with the sweat from Sam’s expansive chest that moved against your skin. You felt like a rag doll as Sam held you steady and snapped his hips, unseating his huge shaft from your tight sex so slowly you swore you felt every inch of him slip against you, and then wrenching you back down on him, spearing you quickly and completely with his throbbing length. He repeated the motions again and again until you could do nothing but mewl and pant and clutch at his hips, at his arms, stars bursting from the corners of your hazy vision. As he pistioned wildly beneath you he arched his body over yours, curling his huge form around you in order to move you just the way he wanted. You didn’t fight, didn’t press or pull, didn't maneuver, you just let Sam have this, have some control over the spinning chaos that was his life. For once, you could give him what he craved, what he _needed._

 

“Say it,” He growled against your jaw, lips hot and breath molten as he snarled in response to the sudden heated clench of your sex that foretold the oncoming  of your blistering orgasm, “Tell me you love me.” The raw need, the exposed vulnerability in his voice had your chest doing strange, achy things, things that had the words tumbling from your shaking lips with no hesitation.

 

“I love you Sam,” You gasped, words choppy and uneven due to the onslaught of his bruising thrusts; you felt him just barely nick your cervix as he snapped those hips harder, plunged deeper, and thankfully you loved the dull bite of it, craved that visceral sizzle through your veins, “I love you.”

 

“Fuck,” He snarled wildly against your hair, burying his face into the curve of your neck, his teeth tracing the pattern of hickeys he’d already stamped onto your skin, “I fucking love you.” His voice was broken and vulnerable and all gravel as he ground out those words, his tone making the truth of the statement utterly undeniable.

 

“Sam I’m g-gonna c-cum…” You stuttered, your words broken by the force of his thrusts, the tight, wet slip of his fingers against your clit and the searing, jagged plunge of his pounding cock too much for your frazzled senses.

 

“Cum for me baby,” Sam said, nipping at the shell of your ear and sweeping his tongue over _that spot_ again, making wild shivers trip down your spine, “Cum for me.”

 

Those words and the perfect downwards swipe of his fingers over your throbbing clit and you were cumming, clenching wetly around his shaft and writhing in his arms. Low, loud moans were tumbling unbidden from your lips as you arched against him, away from him, against him, riding the molten, churning wave of bliss as it ripped through your body. Through the ringing in your ears you were vaguely aware that Sam pulled his exploding shaft from your wrenching sex and came wetly against the cotton of his boxers, pressed hotly against the small of your back, but all that mattered to you was the blissful clench of your abused pussy and the deep, shattering growls that Sam was rumbling in your ear.

 

Then the after shudders; cooling, sweat slicked skin pressed up against yours, wet, matted hair being pushed off of heated flesh and the gentle huffs of your breaths that slowed rhythmically as your pounding hearts calmed. Sam threw his soiled boxers carelessly to the floor, deeming them a problem not welcome in these inky twilight hours, an inconvenience to be dealt with in the harsh light of day, and wrapped those huge arms around your waist, pulling you tightly into the cradle of his arms.

 

Even though he was wrapped around you, you got the sense that he was drawing as much comfort from the embrace as he would if he was the little spoon. The thought of your Moose switching places with you had a small giggle falling from your lips, and you settled more firmly against the solid wall of his chest in response. Despite his size, you could feel the weight that he was losing, you could sense the shrinking of his mass, and quite frankly it scared the shit out of you. You refused to lose Sam, you wouldn’t live without him. You _couldn’t_.

 

But, as Sam nuzzled his stubble ridden jaw further into the crook of your neck and mumbled a sleepy, sluggish _I love you_ into your hair you realized that, just like his pledges that he was fine and his horrific bed head after a solid night’s sleep, some things would never change. This, you wrapped up in Sam, safe in each other’s arms, ready for whatever would come, you knew suddenly, undeniably, was one of those things. And it always would be.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Readers! This was my first stab at a Sam x Reader one shot, hopefully you enjoyed it! Please let me know your thoughts, feelings, concerns in the comments, I love reader feedback! Thanks again for reading!


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